A Stone's Throw  Silence
by Puck Goodfellow
Summary: A girl's friends are stolen from her at a young age, sending her life careening out of control. Now she's a missionary babysitter, for her best friends, and she doesn't know it. What could POSSIBLY go wrong?


I just wanted to place in a short warning here: I'm not like a lot of authors you've read. I'm VERY different. When I write, and it involves a particular accent, then YES, I will distort the English Language to present the reality of the read to you. I do this ON PURPOSE! I apologize for any spelling mistakes, and I'd like let you know that all characters, names, places, etc. Copyright of ME! Usable with permit, please PM for it. Chances are, you'll get it, maybe with a little bit of inquiry.

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A Stone's Throw

Chapter One

Two little kids sat by the pond, innocently skipping rocks: A happy day when Humans and Anthropomorphic got along, and Dragons lived in peace with the mortals and the elves. Dwarves no longer needed worry about things of the dark plaguing their mines, Drow and Goblins were given abandoned underground housing, and the Halflings were well-cared for by all the larger beings.

In this case, a human and an Anthropomorphic, playing together, spelled doom for both the children and their races, for the peace and prosperity held by all, nowadays, for something dark lucked, not in the mines, but there in the woods, behind the children. Something with a terrible future for both in mind: Something single-minded and bent on world domination of total destruction. In a rush of black, this something sprang into action, his plan unfolding perfectly as his arms wrapped about the children, neither able to pick themselves up enough to scream for help, though their village lay near at hand.

The figure plummeted to the water, the pair of children rushing to hold breath in their tiny, inexperienced lungs. The figure did not realize, however attentive and successful he may be, that his actions had been far from unnoticed. A smaller child of Drow origin had been resting in the darker shade under the trees, unnoticed for her dark leathers and skin, but the black figure had not gone unnoticed has her friends made their silent calls for help in the light of their eyes. Once the creature had disappeared and she felt it safe, she called the nearby village to arms.

The chief of the village, a feline anthropomorphic, asked her to explain what had happened. Feverishly, she explained what she saw. She claimed that the creature had been anthropomorphic, but did not say how it was she could tell, or what breed he had been. The chief took offense, half the village as his guest in this.

She tried to explain, but nothing further came to her tongue. Her voice had silenced itself for the loss of her friends. And thus, this one unfortunate little Drow started a World-Race-War without ever intending to, the violence having started merely with three children and the kidnapper of two of them.

The Drow trained for years, joining the village militia, and dedicated herself to protecting children of all racial origin. She was cast out from her family, who had, shortly after this event, gotten into a harsh argument with several of the village elders over punishment to be dealt and whether there would be any.

Silence, as was, coincidentally, the Drow's name, grew up much faster than could have been expected: Much faster than should have happened, regardless. Silence became a rogue missionary, always willing to help those in need, always happy to assist any. She wasn't highly smiled upon because of it: Most Drow turned her down. Still, she made a living with the watching of other's children and protection of the young on field trips, adventures, and just daily outings.

She commonly kept a small animal with her to speak in her place, since she'd so long ago sworn to silence. Although, of course, she did speak to animals. The animals varied in species, but each of them spoke the common tongue.

For reasons unknown to the parents who barely understood silence, the children she met loved her and always dreaded letting her go. Still, the parents hired her back repeatedly, impressed by her service and the fact that their children, even if attacked, were always returned home safe, and usually happier than when they left.

Little did Silence know, however, that the next people she would be hired to work with and protect, were the very ones who gave her the drive to become an indiscriminate protector of all people. Still, they would not be the same as she remembered, and they would not remember her either, whether as she was or as she is now.

She's been called across the continent of Tarans to care for these people on their trek. She now marches up to the gate of he who has called her here, a shadowy figure of a man who never leaves his castle. She'd been sent for by an old fashioned dove-carrier, bringing her news of his wishes in a brief letter reading "Come to my castle on the edge of Western Tarans' beaches. Locate my estate and we will speak further."

She'd finally managed to find the demented man's lair, a gloomy castle on the edge of existence, as she knew it, with a belfry full to the brim of bats. She now stumbled up to the gate, pausing to rest a moment as her armor, weapons and gear weighed her down. All she could see was a little bunkhouse and a locked set of gates with a little voice box mechanism on the side. Instantly, her mind rang out that it was a trap, but this was the only estate on the whole of the Western shore, so it must be the right place.

"I must be out of my mind," she muttered, stepping up to the gate. She pressed the button on the voice box and waited for the other end to be answered.

"Helllooo?" rang an eerie, older man's voice. She had no idea what her employer looked and sounded like, so she pulled out her letter-mail.

"Yes, I'm looking for the master of this castle, uhm… I don't seem to have a name he-"

"Master Cortz, yeees…" cooed the voice. "You must be 'The Babysitter'." She cocked her eyebrow at the use of her long-abandoned nickname. "Yeeees. Welcome to Cortz' estate."

"Yeah, hi. You behind the times? I haven't gone by that calling in a long time, buddy."

"I'm NOT your 'Buddy'." The voice held malice, but also kept to it's eerie, drawn-out cooing. "But yeees. We don't get any papers very ofteenn…"

"Figures…" she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I heard that, young lady." She stared at the voice box, suddenly realizing that she hadn't been holding down the button at all to transfer her voice. "Yees. Your orders tonight are to rest in that bunkhouse, over theeere. There's food and water insiiiide, and we'll welcome you when you get here with another meal."

"Okay, then. Glad we're getting somewhere…" she half muttered, rolling her eyes again. The voice was quiet. "So what do I do when I get up there?"

"IF you can get heeere."

"Right."

"First, you must make it over the fence and up to the hooouuusse. You must do so without muuuurdering any of the master's peeeetss. You must also make it across the maze and moat surrooouuunding the castle. Ooonnnce you have accomplished these tasks, A feast awaitsss you." The voice rolled out of existence, the call ended on the last, drawn out word eerily.

"… Alllll righty, then…" She looked to the bunkhouse. "Wonder how many rats are in there…" And so she crawled into the bunkhouse's bottom bunk after eating a fair meal and drinking her share of wine and water. A small family of rats was pleasantly bunked in with her, no quibbles or biting from either side as the group slept peacefully together. Tomorrow would be a big day for both, for the rats had agreed to travel with the Drow easily, the thought of the adventure and a bigger home intriguing to their little rodent brains.


End file.
